Double Double Toil and Trouble
by Starshocked
Summary: A trip to the theatre changes your perspective...a little. More chapters to follow.
1. Chapter 1

"_Oh my god, what is he doing here?" _

You glance over for a second. In amongst the crowds gathered around the box office you spot him. He's on his own.

You feel the red blush of embarrassment creep from somewhere below your shoulders and advance swiftly up your neck and past your cheekbones.

"It's pretty hot in here, you want to take a breather?"

You nod at CC and soon you're flying through the double doors and standing on the icy pavement, trying not to look back over your shoulder.

"Let me guess – ex-boyfriend?" CC lights a cigarette and starts to hop from one foot to the other.

"No," you say a little too quickly. "My boss."

"Wow. Are you telling me you're not allowed to socialise in your spare time? Since you started at that hospital I never get to see you anymore."

You smile. This had been a good plan. Catch up with an old friend. Make an effort to reconnect. Seek out someone fun like CC. Someone who's life couldn't be further removed from the day to day happenings of PPTH.

"How is life in the…" You are about to ask about the restaurant. About how the latest chef got fired. About the new additions to the menu. About how long it's been since your last visit. But now you know that he is standing way too close.

A tingle dances up your spine and you look back. Your eyes zone in on his. He's still in the crowds but he's looking towards the door. Can he see you? Mirrored glass. He's looking at himself…isn't he?

"So yeah, we got this guy from Mexico and I thought he knew what he was doing. Apparently his mom was French so he had all of these influences in his cuisine but…" CC talks twice as fast as anyone you've ever met. The perfect foil to take your mind off _him_.

He isn't alone. Whatever CC is saying becomes an echo around your curiosity as you watch House greet a tall woman with long blond hair. Your heart misses a beat and you look at CC wondering if CPR is prerequisite for restaurant managers in these times of health and safety lawsuits.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" You stumble over your words as you try to sound casual. "I mean, it's Macbeth, right? How different can it be? I saw it in high school."

CC laughs deeply. "You're kidding, right?"

An old friend who knows you too well. Damn it.

"What's really going on?" CC steps closer to you, breathing smoke fumes in your freshly curled hair. If it was anyone else you'd be really mad about that.

"I don't know." You whisper. Like House could even hear you from right out here. "He's my boss. I don't want him to know what I do in my leisure time."

"Ok." CC shrugs, not buying this answer at all.

A moment passes. A quick glance at your watch and then you see that the crowds are dispersing into the theater. Last chance to get out of it.

"We haven't seen each other in so long, maybe we should just take a moment to catch up? Hit a bar? Karaoke?"

CC stifles a giggle. "Oh my god, who are you and what have you done with Ali?"

You pull your coat around you for security. There really is no choice. Get in there and face it. When you first met CC you were Little Miss Confidence. You'd woven yourself into a cocoon of who you wanted to be and almost started to believe it and then House came along and had tried to unravel all of that.

CC puts an arm in yours and together you push open the great big doors of the theater like you are walking onto the set of your own movie. You catch your friend's eye and together you exchange a secret smile.

"Karaoke?" CC whispers in your ear as you hand the front of house staff your tickets. "Next time we get drunk I'm so signing you up to sing Don't Go Breakin' My Heart."

"Sssh!" You say but are glad of the distraction.

You look at your ticket and then lead the way to your seat in the stalls. You purposely keep your eyes close to the ground. Not making contact with anything other than the gold lettering of the seat numbers.

Six rows from the front and third and fourth row in from the aisle. For a horrible second you wonder if House and his companion might be sitting next to you but already the orchestra is warming up and it doesn't look like those seats will be taken after all.

CC nudges you: "Can you see him?"

"Who?"

"Who? The guy you're avoiding." CC is already looking around, although not knowing who you're supposed to be looking for is making it difficult, "What does he look like?"

You could answer. You could say he's tall and handsome and his deep blue eyes unsteady you and his hair curls at the nape of his neck and his lean form makes you kind of lose your trail of thought. You could say this, but CC would be onto you like a shot.

"Well, he's kind of old…" You begin. "...He walks with a cane."

"Ooh, Orson Wells?" CC giggles looking down the row.

"Not really. He's kind of skinny."

"Skinny guy with a cane." CC mutters.

"And he's very very cranky." You add quietly.

Your friend half-stands up, looking for House. You're pretty confident that CC will never spot him in this almost full theater.

"Here." You hand CC the programme. "Have a look at this instead. You'll never find him. He's got money. He's not like us who decided to come here an hour ago. He'll be up in the circle somewhere or maybe a box. I mean, there's no way he'd be in the cheap seats with the likes of us."

Suddenly, you feel breath on your neck.

"Unless he walks with a cane and this old theater doesn't have elevators."

There's no denying that sometimes the God's of Fate really hate you. And this evening is one such example. You half turn towards his breath. Your noses almost touch. You can feel his knees against the back of your seat.

You want to say "hi." To be casual. He's sitting right behind you. He's with a woman. All of this feels so huge that you can only mutter a greeting.

CC turns right around. You can't even begin to imagine what your friend is thinking or the look on House's face.

"You're Cameron's boss?" CC just dives right in there, twisted uncomfortably but offering an extended hand.

You can feel that House is returning the gesture. Right there and then. Just like that. Physical contact. Like it's that easy. And then – totally out of the blue – "This is Amanda Taylor. She works for a pharmaceutical company in New York."

"New York? I was there just last month." CC is doing that annoying thing of actually being pleasant to them both. You feel a little nauseous.

You look ahead whilst this little conversation progresses. Hoping that any second the lights will go down and the curtains will open. Never have you been keener to immerse yourself in the Bard's darkest play.

"Cameron." And there it is again, the breath on your neck. You glance over the other shoulder so that you can see Amanda without having to make eye contact with him.

"Hi," You say. "Nice to meet you."

"I think we've met before." Amanda says and she could be right. You've met many drugs' reps in your time. And they've all been pretty and they've all been blond.

"Could be." You say cheerfully.

Amanda is either really dumb or really good at pretending to be dumb. She leans over: "You didn't mention that your boyfriend owns a restaurant."

CC immediately looks back at you. His head cocked to one side, amused and quizzical.

The lights go down.

You feel House kick your chair but can't quite work out if it was an accident or not.

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Act Two

It most certainly wasn't an accident. He's kicked the back of your seat exactly 15 times since the play began.

At first you thought perhaps it was just him settling his bad leg into the limited space but now you know it's the beginning of a game. Like pulling the pigtails of the school girl who sits at the desk in front of you, only a lot more secretive.

You long to turn around and give him a stare. Occasionally, you have the power to silence him, but away from the comforts of the hospital, you're not so sure.

CC sits beside you enthralled by the events unfolding on the stage. His face lifts and falls with the drama. CC might be one of your best friends but you can't help wishing that just once he could try to act a little less camp. After all, House is sitting right behind you with a beautiful female companion – a _date_? – and here you are in your very own episode of Will and Grace.

It's pretty obvious who's going to get lucky tonight, and unless CC makes a move on one of the cute guys serving ice cream during the interval, the recipient is not sitting on your row.

The interval finally comes and CC turns to you: "Wow. Wasn't that something?"

"Definitely something," you whisper to keep the conversation out of House's earshot.

"I'm going to get some ice-cream, you want one?"

You shake your head. CC rises and sets off down the aisle looking like America's next top model. House's companion catches up with him and they head out to the foyer.

You sit for a moment, knowing he is right behind you, until you can stand it no more and find yourself turning and taking a deep breath.

Damn it. He isn't even looking at you. All of those spine tingling moments when you were sure you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head and here he is scrutinising his programme.

Now what to do? He knows you are looking at him. You can't just turn back around.

"Macbeth?" You say, casually.

He looks up. Mock surprise.

"Wow," he sniffs, turning a page, "You sure don't have any regard for the traditions of the theater. I think you're supposed to call it The Scottish Play."

"I didn't think this would…" you notice that he's drawn moustaches on the actor's photos.

House shifts in his seat: "Well, I was thinking: 'where do you bring the woman who considers The L Word highbrow culture?'"

For a split second you think he's talking about you. But then you remember _her. _You long to know what's going on. Like you have a right to know why he's with her.

He looks hard at you: "You never mentioned CC."

You freeze under his stare, feeling it prick you, your self-confidence ebbing away.

"CC is…" Could you pretend that he's your boyfriend? Should you? Would it make a difference?

"CC owns that restaurant on Oakland, right? I could have been enjoying free pasta by association all of these months."

"CC doesn't offer free pasta to just anybody," you say, hoping for mysterious, settling for slightly disturbing.

"I guess we're both not his type then. Right?"

He returns to his programme and you allow yourself a moment to properly look at him. The most obvious difference is that he's shaved. His face is completely smooth. A line has appeared on his chin like an arrow up to his lips. You wander how it would feel to touch his face and at that very moment Amanda returns and unbelievably does just that.

It's a simple enough gesture. She hands him a tiny ice-cream tub and he takes it from her without so much as a thank you. And then. Then she does it. Casually. Pats the side of his cheek. The soft skin that barely sees the light of day. Like it means nothing. Like physicality with House is easy.

And you are dumbstruck.

And he is tucking into his ice-cream.

And you turn back around quickly.

CC rejoins you. He's beaming from ear to ear.

"Long queue?"

"Sure," he murmurs, "I got talking."

"Really?" You say. Not surprised.

"Oh sure." You watch curiously as CC's chocolate brown eyes slowly raise and move left. He is referring to Amanda. "So, you wanna know what the deal is?"

"I don't care." You lie.

"Well, neither does she," he says quietly as he licks the lids of the ice cream tub in a provocative fashion, "Two nights. Big empty hotel room. Looking to get laid."

Suddenly the lights dim and the second half begins. Your heart isn't in it though. MacBeth might have the three witches voices going around and around in his head driving him to distraction but you have the vision of House and Amanda getting down to it, and quite frankly, you can't decide which is more disturbing.

This time there is no chair kicking and you can't feel his eyes penetrating the back of your head. And when you drop your programme just so you can steal an upside glance behind you, you see that she is holding his hand. Or he is holding hers.

And when Lady Macbeth completely loses it and her world starts to crumble you feel that perhaps you are starting to understand just how she feels.


End file.
